And there they were—Minta, a radiant bride, Stirling inscrutable; and the organ playing the Wedding March from Lohengrin. It was over.
We left the church and with Franklyn beside me, I came out into the uncertain April sunshine.
MINTA
One
I am not sure when I first began to suspect that someone was trying to kill me. At first it was a hazy notion, one which I dismissed as ridiculous—and then it became a certainty. I had become a frightened and unhappy woman.
Yet on the day when I married Stirling I was, I was sure, the happiest bride in the world. I couldn’t believe that this wonderful thing had happened to me. In fact, on the day he proposed to me I was taken completely by surprise. Stirling was different from anyone I had ever known. There was a special quality about him. Nora had it too. They were the sort of people whose lives seemed so much more exciting than mine; and that made them stimulating to be with. Nora was by no means beautiful but she had more charm than anyone I knew; she was poised and had a rare dignity; I felt one only had to look at Nora to be attracted by her. Her life had been so unusual. There was the marriage to Stirling’s father of which she spoke very little, but I had noticed that whenever her husband’s name was mentioned there was a sort of breathless pause—with Stirling as well as Nora-as though they were talking of some deity. The fact that she had been his wife elevated her in some way, made her different from other people. Stirling had the same quality. They were not easy to know; they were unpredictable; they were unlike people I had known all my life—people like Maud Mathers and Franklyn—and even Lucie whom I understood and knew so well.
I had never hoped that Stirling would care for me. I used to think that he and Nora would be well matched, and had she not been his stepmother they might have married. And then that day came and he said without warning: “Minta, I want to marry you.” I blinked and stammered: “What did you say?” because I was certain I had misheard.
He took my hands and kissed them and said he wanted to marry me. I told him that I loved him and had ever since I had first seen him; but I didn’t dream he felt the same about me.
We told Father right away. He was delighted because he knew Stirling was rich and that when we were married I shouldn’t be haunted by poverty as he had always been. He summoned the household—including our few servants—and told them the news; and he sent down to the wine cellars for the last of the champagne so that everyone could drink our health. The servants did this readily. They were doubtless thinking that their wages would now be paid regularly.
But there were two people in the house who weren’t pleased.
The first was Lucie. Dear Lucie, she always behaved as though I had just emerged from the schoolroom and needed looking after. She came to my room after Stirling had gone and sat on the bed as she used to in those days when she came to Whiteladies for holidays.
“Minta,” she said, ‘are you absolutely sure? “
“I was never more sure of anything. It’s wonderful, because I never thought he could possibly care for me.”
“Why not?” she demanded.
“You happen to be a beautiful young woman and I always thought you’d make a good marriage.”
“Yet you’re looking worried.”
“I am … a little.”
“But why?”
“I don’t know. It’s a feeling I have.”
“Oh, Lucie, everybody’s delighted. And even if I wasn’t in love with him, it’s good from every point of view, isn’t it? He’ll stop all our worries about money; and you know how you’re always fretting about the house falling into ruin.”
“I know. I love this house and it is in urgent need of repair, but that doesn’t mean I think you should marry because of it.”
“You’re being a fussy old hen, Lucie.”
“Since I married your father I’ve looked upon you as my daughter. And before that, as you know, I was very fond of you. I want you to be happy, Minta.”
“But I am. Never so as now.”
“I wish you would wait … not rush into things.”
“You’ve become a gloomy old prophetess. What’s wrong with Stirling?”
“Nothing, I hope, but it’s all too quick. I had no idea that he was in love with you. He’s never given me that impression.”
“Nor me either.” I giggled like a foolish schoolgirl.
“But he’s different, Lucie. He’s lived a different life from ours. You shouldn’t expect him to behave like ordinary people. He wouldn’t show his feelings. “
That’s the trouble. He doesn’t. He certainly didn’t show he was in love with you. “
“Why else should he want to marry me? I can’t bring him a fortune.”
“He’s very interested in the house. He might be seeking the background marriage into a family like ours could give him. After all, who is he?
That rather vulgar display at the New Year shows a certain lack of breeding. “
“Lucie, how dare you say such things!”
I’m sorry. ” She was immediately contrite.
“I’m letting my anxieties run away with me. Forgive me, Minta.”
“Dearest Lucie. I’m the one who should ask forgiveness. I know you’re worried solely on my account. But really there’s nothing to worry about. I’m perfectly happy.”
“Well, you won’t rush things too much, will you?”
“Not too much,” I promised. But I knew Stirling wanted an early marriage and everything now would be what Stirling wanted.
The other dissenter was Lizzie. How dramatic—and rather tiresome—she had become since Mamma died. Lizzie had to wait until I was in bed before she came in, glided was the word, with her candle held high like some ghost. She was in a long white flannelette nightdress which added to the ghostly illusion. I was aware of being too excited for sleep, and was going over the wonderful moment when Stirling asked me to marry him.
She pushed open the door and I said: “What are you doing roaming about the house. Lizzie? You might set your nightdress alight with that candle.”
“I have to come and see you. Miss Minta.”
“At this time of night!”
“Time doesn’t matter.”
“Well, I think it does, Lizzie, because I’m tired and you ought to be in bed.”
She took no notice but sat on the edge of my bed.
So you’re going to get married . to him. “
“I’m going to marry Mr. Stirling Herrick, if that’s to whom you refer.”
“That’s him, all right. And the likeness is there. You’d know who he is at once.”
“Please don’t speak of my future husband disrespectfully, Lizzie.”
“There’s something unnatural about it. It seems a funny thing to me.
His father wanting to marry your mother and now he’s here and going to marry you. “
“What are you talking about. Lizzie.”
“It was his father who was here all those years ago.”
“His father! That was Mrs. Herrick’s husband.”
“A real mix-up,” said Lizzie.
“That’s what I think’s so funny about it. Your mother was mad about him and she wasn’t the only one.”
“Go to bed. Lizzie. You’re rambling.”
“No I’m not. What I say is true. It’s as though he’s come back. In a way I always thought he would.”
Events started to fall into shape in my mind. I said: “Lizzie, do you mean that my mother’s artist was …”
That’s right. Mr. Charles Herrick. You can see his name on some of the drawings in the studio cupboard. He came here to teach her drawing, then he went away . sent away to Australia for theft and your mother never saw him again. She was never the same after, and now he’s dead they say, but there’s this other one and you’re planning to marry him. Doesn’t that seem like some sort of fate? “